A Meeting At Corvallis

Sandra went on: "But the Grand Constable is loyal to me: and Princess Mathilda. It's quite extraordinary, but he has no wish to be Lord Protector himself."

"Ah, but some others do."

"But they can't agree on a candidate, and none of them alone has anything like the strength of the combined loyalists. We can all go home, haul up our drawbridges, and wait-the harvest is in the storehouses behind our walls and gates. And in a little while, after you're tired of sitting outside the moat and making rude gestures, you'll have to go home to your farms and villages too, before we taunt you once again."

Her face was calm but her eyes twinkled; Juniper fought down an answering smile as Sandra went on.

"For that matter, if you split your army up to watch castles, Conrad tells me there are things he could do which might reverse the whole result. And Pope Leo is still talking about a Crusade, you know. He has quite a popular following."

Juniper smiled herself, grimly. She was prepared for that, and there was an edge in her tone when she replied: "But speaking of farmers, before we have to go home we can pay your farmers a visit. We don't have to take castles. All we have to do is take the farmers who want to go with us: and then you can set your men-at-arms to plowing your fields, and follow along with a bag of wheat slung around your neck, sowing the good earth yourselves."

The wimpled head nodded. "There is that. But if you really wanted to do that, you wouldn't be talking to me now, would you?"

Juniper sighed. "We can't make you tear down your castles. We can't occupy your territories and make you reform that dreadful system you've established. We can wreck you, but only with much loss of precious life and a risk of the same to ourselves, and what was left of you would still be a deadly threat. We can't cross the Columbia at all, and much of your strength is there these days. Yet we can't just let you put the Protectorate back together as it was, either- you're smarter than your late, unlamented husband, bad cess to him, the creature. You wouldn't make the same mistakes."

Sandra Arminger's small left hand closed on the arm of the chair; she made it relax, but there was something in her eyes, like a red spark moving in the depths.

"I'm less ambitious than Norman was," she said carefully. "And I know when to stop. My primary goal is to pass his inheritance on to my daughter, intact."

"That's probably even true. However, you're also just as vindictive as he was, if far more subtle. I'm not going to rely on your loving kindness and better nature, so."

Sandra gave a small snort of laughter. "Granted. I don't have a better nature. So?"

"So, we-the Mackenzies, and I'm sure we can persuade everyone else-will recognize you as Regent of the Association, against the time of your daughter's majority, which will be when she's twenty-six. We will even help you enforce it against any noble who disputes your claim-we need a single authority to deal with, not a mass of robber barons raiding as the whim takes them."

"But," Sandra said. "There's always a 'but.'"

"There are conditions. Several of them, in fact."

At her raised eyebrow, Juniper went on: "First, you must withdraw from the territories in the Pendleton area you occupied last year. We'll agree not to occupy them either."

A sigh. "We've already ordered the garrisons there to withdraw; we needed the men. And with so many nobles and even heirs dead, there isn't the demand for new fiefs any more. Agreed. They're a bunch of hicks and boors out there anyway."

"Next, you have to renounce any claim on our lands and recognize all the free communities as equals. Peace on the border."

"Agreed," Sandra said at once. "You have won this war, after all. I warn you that Norman couldn't control what every baron did in detail, and I won't be able to do so either, but I will try."

"And promises are worth their weight in gold," Juniper said; she was a little surprised when Sandra chuckled and made a gesture of acknowledgment.

"And you will decree, and have the decree read in every domain, castle, manor and village, that any resident of the Protectorate is now free to leave, now or at any time in the future, without bond or let, taking their personal property with them."

"Ah." Sandra Arminger closed her eyes for an instant. "Now, that's the big one. That would be difficult to sell to the barons."

"Better lose some than lose all," Juniper said ruthlessly. "Not all would go; I imagine a lot of the free tenants and even some of the bond-tenants would stay. They've put their lives into that land, after all, and leaving would mean starting over again pe

"Which means we'd have to cut back on the army," Sandra observed. "We couldn't afford it any more."

"Exactly, unless your nobles preferred to sacrifice their standard of living." Sandra made a rueful twist of the lips that wasn't quite a smile, and Juniper went on: "That is how we can trust your word; you won't have that great standing army hanging over our heads like a hammer anymore. I suggest you settle the ordinary soldiers on farms and call them a militia-or whatever piece of old- world foolishness you choose to hang on it, fiefs-in-ordinary or whatever suits your fancy."

Sandra's left eyebrow went up again, and she silently looked at Juniper's kilt and plaid and the raven-feathers in the clasp of her flat Scots bo

And if she weren't a cruel, murderous bitch who's evil to the painted toenails I could like this woman, sure. She had an uncomfortable feeling that the other could read the thought, as well.

"Anything else?" the consort-now the Regent-said.

"There's to be a yearly meeting of all the communities, to consider grievances and settle disputes."

"Where?" Sandra asked curiously.

"Corvallis. They're further from you and have fewer feuds. Also, later people from south of there may wish to join."

Sandra nodded thoughtfully, looking at the dignitaries scattered around the field outside the pavilion. Turner and Kowalski were there with a clutch of other Corvallan magnates. Juniper could see the calculations of political advantage going through the other woman's brain.

But two can play at that game, my lady Regent. Any number can, in fact. It's not my favorite sport, the game of thrones, but I like it better than the game of swords.

Sandra nodded. "Agreed. A: oh, God, let's not call it a United Nations, shall we? That would doom things from the start."

"We could simply call it the Meeting."

"A yearly Meeting at Corvallis, agreed. And that's all?"

"By no means. There's the matter of Mathilda."

Sandra Arminger went very still. She took another sip of the coffee and put the cup on the folding table with its surface of mother-of-pearl and gold.

"Yes?" she said, her voice full of pride and danger. "There's something about my daughter you don't like?"

Juniper smiled; it wasn't even an unkindly expression. "On the contrary. She's a sweet girl, and nobody's fool, and we agree without dispute she's to be your heir. So much do we all love her that we'd insist on her company, for, shall we say, six months of the year."

Sandra's basilisk glare went blank and opaque; Juniper could see twisting pathways behind the dark brown eyes, like one of those old Escher prints, and felt dizzy for an instant. To help the process of thought along she gently pointed out: "And Rudi is very fond of her, so. And she of him."

The pathways were joined by gears, meshing in silent smoothness. Sandra smiled, a somewhat alarming expression.